


Archive One: First Meetings

by Willow Ravenwright (GothicLolita009)



Series: The Nephilim Archive [1]
Category: Mortal Instruments, Supernatural
Genre: Dean - Freeform, F/M, Gabriel - Freeform, Gen, Loki - Freeform, Sam - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Trickster - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 13:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicLolita009/pseuds/Willow%20Ravenwright
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part One of The Nephilm Archive, written for NaNoWriMo 2013.</p><p>Lia Pierce is just a ordinary girl...who feels an instant connection to a guy she has just met. Gabriel? Well, he's feeling it too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Archive One: First Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All Mortal Instruments characters, references, locales, and the like are the sole property of Cassandra Clare, Warner Bros. Entertainment and their subsidiaries. Any and ALL Supernatural references, characters, locales, etc. are the sole property of Warner Bros. Entertainment and its subsidiaries. They are all being used without permission, and no attempt is being made to copyright any material herein.

Archive One: First Meetings

The New Idea Diner was the local hang-out after 10:00 PM in the Amity Park section of Baltimore, Maryland.

It was situated on the corner of Grace Avenue and Amity Street. Its décor had only been just recently updated when Hiram Bryan bought the place three years previously. And it was not long after that the place went back to the proverbial Hell which he had hoped it would not descend into. The curtains were yellowing, the tables besotted with gum underneath them, sturdy tape patching holes in the upholstery, and paper tablecloths covered the scratches in the tables.

Amity Park was not exactly the best part of town for a fancy restaurant. The diner was laid out in typical fashion; black and white patterned seats and cushy booths against the windows with curved glass that never seemed to be entirely crystal clear. “THE NEW IDEA DINER” was laid out in lights atop the railroad-car like structure.

And it was here that Liadan Pierce would spent her evenings and a good majority of her weekends.

The young woman was twenty-two. She stood at a non-imposing five foot four inches tall, with mousy brown hair and expressive grey eyes. She favored jeans and t-shirts, and typically depicting her favorite British comedies and dramas and obscure bands. This was actually more than a convenience when she was hired at the New Idea to what would be equated by some as indentured servitude. It was always amusing to see who would give her a thumbs up over a shirt that said, “ALLONS-Y,” or which people would ask her about the virtues of some development on this or that show.

And the term for her “indentured servitude” was another two years. When she wasn't working for Hiram the Horrible, she attended the Baltimore campus of the University of Maryland. Being a Terrapin, she mused, wasn't as bad as all that. At least if worse came to worse, she could always crawl into her proverbial shell and hide from the world forever. That's what varieties of tortoise did after all. Lia adored the occasional evening down at her favorite Irish pub, reading any and everything from science fiction to Victorian romance and medieval tales of knighthood and beautiful ladies, and lounging with a cup of Earl Grey and Abney Park or Emilie Autumn on the iPod. When she could get those evenings, that is.

The diner often stayed open until 1:00 or 2:00 AM. And it was the after-bar rush that Lia hated.

It was not uncommon during the course of a late-night dinner/early breakfast service for Lia to be propositioned, potentially grabbed, or at the very least ogled at by the drunk men (and occasional woman) who were the customers she served. It was something she was used to, something she hated, but it was no more than part of the territory. She would deal with them as they came, say thanks but no thanks, and do her best to move on.

Not that her boss did anything to be sure that she would be safe. But at least the men were usually drunk and easily cowed by an intimidating look. When that didn't work, Lia reserved the right to walk away and file charges if need be. That, and she had a mean right cross if she absolutely needed it.

*******

It was an ordinary Thursday night when it all began; quiet, that is, until the bars let out in a few hours. Lia sat in her usual corner, her Psychology text open to the latest chapter. She murmured softly to herself so as not to disturb His Royal Grumpiness as he pitter-pattered about the kitchen to ensure all was ready for the impending surge of late-night drunkards and ravers.

A chuckle roused her from her text. On impulse, she marked her place and rose to her feet to greet the new customer.

He looked to be not that much older than she. A pleasing countenance, with bright hazel eyes that could be whiskey-brown in the right light. Average Joe in a good sort of way. Sandy colored hair hung messily in his eyes, but somehow in just the correct sort of fashion to be charming.

Lia could feel an almost electric impulse emanating from him as he entered the little diner with its smudges on the walls and immaculate tables. Their eyes met; and something passed between them. His smirk turned confused, then into a soft, genuine sort of smile.

“Evening, honey-bunches,” he said by way of greeting, “Just take a seat anywhere?”

“Uh—yeah, sure,” replied Lia eloquently, feeling the blood rise in her cheeks as he sat himself at a booth, observing the street before him. Normal circumstances would have her hackles up at any strange man using terms of endearment after an acquaintance of less than thirty seconds.

From him, though, it seemed right. Something which was, despite everything to the contrary, real. Fetching the warm glass carafe from the coffee pot, she noticed with dismay the coffee had begun to look the worse for wear.

“Uh...coffee...” she managed, “it's, uh...gonna be a sec, if you want some. I don't do the whole, “coffee-that's-been-sitting-for-two-hours” thing. Supposed to make it fresh, but—when you're waiting on the rush you tend to forget.”

“Sure thing,” he said, regarding her with a warm gaze as he turned over his own cup. In a few moments and with practiced movements, Lia was pouring out fresh black brew.

“I'm Lia, by the way,” she said, slipping into the familiar rhythm of waitress and customer with ease.

“Call me Gabriel,” replied the man with a twinkle in his eye, “always nice to meet a pretty chica like yourself. Tips must suck, though.”

“Only for now,” replied the waitress with an amused chuckle, “ugh...wait until the bars let out. Then you'll see the place hoppin'.”

“And it's just little ol' you? Aw, Lia-Lia...that can't be easy for ya.”

“I'm used to it,” she shrugged, “bring you a menu?”

“Just tell me; what d'you have in the way of desserts?”

A piece of strawberry cheesecake and an order of fries later, the bars emptied and Lia was moving about like so many headless chickens. Somehow she managed to juggle the tables, turn guests, keep the orders straight, and remind Hemorrhoid Hiram about the finer points of quality control.

Gabriel was, much to her surprise, sipping what she guessed was his fourth or seventh cup of coffee patiently, smiling up at her when she came back to his table.

“You look run off your feet; sit a bit, eh? Do your tables later.”

“Are you kidding me?” she inquired with a laugh, “I won't be home 'til three AM. And that I cannot handle; I have class. But I'm surprised you stayed.”

“What can I say? You intrigue me, Lia. Is that short for something?”

“Liadan. It means--”

“Grey lady. Irish name, right?”

Stopping in the middle of her wipe-down, Lia turned large, disbelieving eyes upon the sole customer remaining, and blinked.

“How did you know that?”

“Lucky,” he shot back, with a little too much nonchalance to make the girl entirely believe him.

That was of course not to say she wasn't amused.

“Hey, Lia, we're closed!”

Gabriel's head turned sharply in the direction of the kitchen, where His Royal Gruffness was finishing up the washing with the porter.

“Got it!” she called, and to Gabriel said, “I'll be right back.” Turning down the lights and locking the door, she flipped the old OPEN sign to CLOSED and finally checked her watch.

It was 1:00 AM, and the normal wave of tired that struck her after a long and busy service had failed to make its presence felt tonight. Maybe it was that test she had gotten a 94 on that had spurred her on.

Gabriel was standing, calm and easy, leaving a twenty on the table, which Lia immediately collected. She muttered to herself as she cashed him out. It sounded a great deal like, “dammit, where the heck is my head at tonight?”

It amused the man watching her no end. Finally looking up, Lia groaned and banged her head once against the wall.

“I locked you in here,” she said, her tone somewhere between disgust and annoyance at herself, “I guess you'll have to follow me out.”

“Oh, no!” he cried, eyes widening in mock-dramatic horror, “I'll have to walk out the back of a diner with a smokin' hot babe! How tragic!”

Lia really was unable to control the laugh that escaped her. Practically on her heels, Gabriel followed her through the kitchen quickly and out the back of the diner, which its resident pain-in-the-arse would be locking behind him.

“Uh...so...”

“Yeah...so?”

“Thanks for stopping in,” she said, feeling awkward at best. After all; what did you say to a guy who actually liked talking with you? To a guy who wanted to be with you? It was an uncommon occurrence for Lia, to say the best. Despite the numerous people telling her she was pretty, she wasn't sure she quite believed it. And the opposite sex had always pulled at her proverbial or literal pigtails and ran away laughing.

“Let me walk with you?” he offered kindly.

“Sorry; I don't do that.”

“Really...please? It's dangerous out there, Lia. I'd rather not see you hurt.”

“And I'd rather you not knowing where I live,” she said firmly, “I do not bring strange men within a mile of my place. Sorry. Thanks for the offer, but; I'll be just fine.”

“If you say so.”

His tone was so forlorn, Lia wanted to take back her general policy on strange men from the diner and at least allow him the satisfaction of accompanying her to her apartment complex. As it was, she could be just as stubborn and prideful as Lucifer supposedly was, and that would not allow her to bend her general policy for anybody.

“Look—you know where to find me, yeah? You could always come back and visit me tomorrow.”

She could almost hear the smugness in him when he spoke, and saw the immediate change in his demeanor. His smile was infectious, and something she realized she wanted to see more often.

“I can come and see you tomorrow?” His tone was hopeful, sweet, as infectious as his smile.

“'Course you can,” she shot back, “free country.”

'”Then until tomorrow, Miss Lia. I will see you again. That I can promise.”

With that declaration, he swooped her hand up into his own, kissed it quickly, and turned toward the main part of town.

“Yeah,” she said after he'd disappeared into the night, “I'll fucking believe it when I see it, you arse.”

*****

Lia's apartment was down Amity Street; number 91. The little complex, she was told, had been around in some shape, form or fashion since the great Mr. Edgar Allan Poe himself had wandered the same streets she now did.

What Lia knew was that her complex was old. She lived on the third floor; a walk-up. Which was its own special level of Hell when she had to move into it.

Apartment C-5 was where she called home. Upon the door was a sign painted with green shamrocks, declaring, “A Hundred Thousand Welcomes,” or in Gaelic, “Cead Mile Failte,” welcoming any and all visitors. Removing her shoes in the narrow hall, she flipped on the lights to reveal the plain white walls that were bedecked with posters featuring Doctor Who, Tolkein characters, favorite bands, and many of her own photographs. Her apron she hung on one of the several hooks she had attached to the hall wall for the purpose of holding umbrellas, coats and keys.

The apartment opened up into the living area and the kitchen, the bedroom off the hall which led off the living area. The floor was a mixture of lino and carpet, with a pull-out sofa that was actually rather comfortable despite the tacky blue slip cover. The chairs were a little rickety, the TV stand could do with a bit of paint or refinishing, but the place was clean and she was more than happy with it.

She half-shed her clothes as she went into the bedroom, tossing them into the hamper and reaching for her nightdress on the back of her door as she did. It was her custom to go back, double-check her locks, and then go to sleep.

And yet, there was something about the routine which grated on her...something which absolutely railed against the familiar and the safe. It was the same part of her that wanted Gabriel to live up to his promise. Lia sighed as she reprimanded herself inwardly.

'You're just like your dumb-ass mother,' she thought at herself strictly. When she had left home, not all that long ago, it was with a promise she would never, ever make the same mistake her mother did. That if she ever fell for someone, or he for her, she would get it right the first time. That she would never be her mother's daughter; at least when it came to romance.

And as she fell asleep that early morning, that part of her couldn't stop whispering in her ear.

*****

Gabriel, on the other hand, had no need whatsoever to sleep. Being an Archangel had its perks, he surmised.

His own thoughts were not far from Liadan Pierce. Using his Grace like a brush, he painted himself a exquisite apartment. And even as he fell into the bed, Lia's image was clear in his mind. Though he had only really seen her from a respectable distance, he had no qualms about making an excuse to see her again.

She was a puzzle, and he wanted to solve her. Unable to sleep, he took himself to Baltimore General Hospital; and in more particular, a quiet, out of the way unit. Of course nobody noticed him at this time of the morning, and it was easy enough to scan the records. He quickly found who he wanted.

The beeping of the monitors was the only sound in the room as he made himself comfortable.

“Sorry; well, sort of,” he said to the man, whose name apparently was Haverson, Morty. Diagnosis; Diabetic coma, likely to be discharged in a few days.

“Yeah; well...the thing is, I need somebody to talk to, Morty. You're about as good as I'm gonna find right now. I met this girl tonight; normal! She works in a greasy spoon, for Dad's sake. It was supposed to be a harmless little flirt; she’s not bad-looking...why not? I’m not entirely certain a damn Cupid didn’t tag one of us. My point is...why can't I get just a regular Human girl out of my head? Huh. Morty? Am I finally going crazy?”

The clearing of a throat behind him quickly made Gabriel turn. A severe-looking nurse stood, tapping her foot.

“Visiting hours are long over, sir,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest, “do I need to call security and have them escort you from the building?”

“Uh; no Ma'am...so sorry...Uncle Morty,” stammered the Archangel, rising, “I just...from Chicago...heard he was...yeah. So sorry; just leaving.”

Checking the nearby hallway, he was gone in a flash, without an answer.

*****

Lia's alarm went off at 9:30 AM the next morning. Even as she reached for the clock to turn off the alarm, she had the distinct feeling that she'd not slept for a week. With a little groan, she stirred and did her best to come awake.

A bacon sandwich, cheesy scrambled eggs, and coffee helped immensely in that department.

Checking her backpack, Lia turned off her mobile phone's alarm; fifteen minutes to catch the S-5 for the main part of town. Fridays were the one easy day of the week; one class and then free lunch at the diner before an earlier shift at work. And it was only then that she considered.

Gabriel did not know that she would be working early today. She sighed, determined not to hold it against him when he didn't turn up. Really; the guy was scrambling her brains in the worst sort of way.

Or maybe, like those eggs, she was doing the scrambling to herself.

*****

“Hel-lo,” a voice sing-songed as the diner bell rang. Lia's eyes went wide. It had only been a couple of hours since her arrival for her shift.

How the hell had he known where to find her and when? Adrenaline kicked in momentarily as she rose to greet him much as she had the night before.

“Early riser, are ya?” she half-teased as she poured out the coffee and he deposited himself into a booth.

“Actually, wanted to take a peek in that little hipster store down the street. And the coffee here's good, so...”

“You are such a liar,” she laughed, slipping into the booth to join him.

“No, really...that little hipster store? What was it called; Phoenix? Super-cool stuff, really.”

Which only set Lia off again as he added an unearthly amount of sugar to his coffee and stirred.

“I'm actually rather surprised you kept your promise,” she mused as he stirred and took a gratified sip.

“Really? Why Lia, I'm hurt,” he called, clutching his chest dramatically, “despite what you might believe, there are people who keep their promises.”

“Yeah, I know; they're just few and far between.”

“It's a sad thing, isn't it? But you, Lia...I saw the way you worked last night. You try to see the good in everyone. You work hard; judging by the fact you're reading a textbook, you study hard, too. So much, in fact, I find your ability to let loose non-existent.”

Lia chuckled, rolling her eyes, trying not to show him just how on the mark he really was.

“Hear me out here, Beautiful,” he went on, his serious voice making her take notice, “I've been around; not in the slutty way, but an, “I know what I'm talking about,” kinda way. You? Good People. And that, my dear; a really rare breed in this day and age.”

Snapping her head around, Lia could see where he had caught her text. It sat in its place on the table, marked neatly and ready for another round.

“Yeah, uh...my boss lets me study. While I'm not, you know...the bars close late, and...ya know, gotta make it somehow while you're in college.”

“College...where d'you go?”

“Right here. U of M.”

“Terrapin? You're too gorgeous to be a turtle.”

“Oh, stop. I'm nothing special,” she said, almost automatically. She blinked in surprised when Gabriel's eyes narrowed a little, a frown creasing his face.

“Never say that. You are special; in fact, to catch my eye, you have to be. So don't even think that way again, Miss Lia. Because then you're just lying to yourself.”

The gravity of the words, topped with a heavy dose of sincerity, was nothing she was expecting. Beneath the skin of mischief and trickery and kept promises was a grave and honest sort of spirit that Lia couldn't help but be drawn to.

The bell over the door rang, and Lia reluctantly excused herself to attend the new customers. Gabriel, without noticing he did, watched her every move; the way she got their sodas and milkshakes, how she called the order back to the kitchen, loaded the tray with the condiments and carried it to the table. Even how she loaded the food on the trays and then served it with a genuine smile. If there was anything he was good at discerning, it was fakes. He'd dealt enough justice out to the pretentious asshats of the world to know the difference.

Liadan was as genuine as fine silver, Gabriel decided. Her mind was sharp, and she took no crap from anybody. Without a doubt, this girl was someone he could certainly find himself getting behind. Or inside. Or around. Or even in bed.

She was attentive, being sure to cash each customer out according to how they chose to split their collective bill. His hazel eyes followed her intently as she went about the business of wiping down the table, admiring the sway of her hips and the graceful stretch of her arms as she worked.

And then she was back sitting across from him. Much to his ever-loving delight.

“So—we were discussing the merits and failings of our species?” she prompted with a grin, and Gabriel didn't have the heart to correct her. Nor did he trust her entirely with that close-guarded secret identity.

After all, it wasn't often people stood in the presence of an Archangel. Centuries of running, of hiding among the Pagans had given him a quirky sense of humor, a distant sort of love for the Human race, and a hell of a lot of wisdom if he so chose to use it.

There was also, of course, the very real chance of being committed by this charming and adorable girl. And while he wouldn't be there but for a short time, it wasn't a place he'd like to spend time in. He preferred it here, with the shifty-eyed cat clock ticking away and the quiet Michael Bolton song played above them. And he was struck with a thought, clear and hard as crystal. This girl...this girl who was barely a child to him, could teach him a thing or two about Humans.

“So then, Gabriel; what brings you to Baltimore?”

Lia's voice brought him back out of his reverie and into the present. Looking at her intently, he mused over the question.

“Work,” was the automatic response, and a smirk which made his female company chuckle a little.

“So; what d'you do for a living?” she inquired with a raised eyebrow.

Aaaand there it was. The inevitable question.

“Traveling here and there...helping where I can.”

“So you're a drifter...a hand that's hired for a few days and then wanders off to the next town? A Raven's Black Feather, if you ask me.”

“Huh?” Gabriel looked at her, mildly confused.

“Legend says that the Raven leaves black feathers at the door as symbols of misfortune...of bad things. A harbinger of trouble. Ya know, I should be running as fast as I can in the other direction.”

“Yet here you sit, Miss Lia...tell me; you don't believe that old legend is true. Do you?”

“If I did; I don't think I'd be sitting here having coffee with you, hm?” challenged the girl with a smile.

“Lucky me,” he replied with a grin, reaching for her hand and bringing it to his lips.

“Are you some kind of white knight?” she asked, “Born in the wrong time? Wants to ride around on a white horse doing for the battle of the hand of some fair lady?” asked Lia with a chuckle.

“Nah...just a bit smitten with you, Kitten. You're a puzzle, Miss Liadan...and one that I'd love to solve.”

“And if I were to say that the feeling was mutual?”

“Then I'd say you're in for a ride; if you really want to know me.”

“So; this is typically the point in the script where the mysterious bad-boy attempts to seduce the unsuspecting young lady into a date in which she surrenders herself to him entirely,” she declared, arms opening in mock-dramatic fashion.

“Please,” he smirked with amusement, “you're too level-headed and smart to fall for some stupid bull-shit lines from cheesy romance novels.”

“And you know all this about me from knowing me for...what? Five minutes. Maybe?”

“By watching you. You'd be surprised how much what you don't say can reveal about you.”

“So you're saying by watching me...interact with a bunch of customers...you can tell that I'm level-headed and smart? You're jumping into scary territory there, Mister.”

“Maybe,” he mused with a gentle smile as he finished his coffee, “but tell me...am I wrong?”

It was a moment before she responded, “No,” her head drooping. “I...I didn't think I was easy to read.”

“You're not, Cupcake. Trust me. I only see that about you because I choose to see it...I see it because I'm looking for it.”

She blinked at him; any look that suggested he was joking, or humoring her never crossed his face. Quite the contrary; those hazel eyes told her a great deal about the sincerity of his words, how he genuinely felt.

“Um...thank you,” she said, doing her best to keep from blushing like a schoolgirl. Maybe, she decided, having your brains scrambled by a good-looking man wasn't such a bad thing after all.

“Just call 'em like I see 'em,” he replied, giving her a smile as she excused herself to refill their coffee cups.

“Hey! Lia! Get back here and pick up these fries!”

“That a common occurrence?” inquired Gabriel with a raised eyebrow.

“Yup. But I don't complain that much, as it usually results in free food. Be right back; we can share.”

It wasn't that long before Lia returned from the pass with the fries and two plates. Her companion couldn't help but notice the cup of creamy ranch on her own plate. One could tell a lot about a person by what they chose to dip their fries in.

“Ketchup works too...but it's boring,” she mused as she ate, “everyone eats fries with ketchup. I live dangerously; ranch, or cheese on a really crazy night. Tonight? Simplicity.”

“Agreed. Switch it up, right?”

“Correct, Gabriel,” she said, eyes dancing as she grinned at him, making a wave of warmth pass through him.

It always made him smile; his name on her lips. She always said it reverently, as if instinctively she knew everything about him.

Yet another puzzling thing about her that he was determined to solve.

A girl who could move from discussing the dichotomy of the Human race to the virtues of ketchup versus ranch versus cheese as an acceptable dip for fries was not something you found every day.

“So...you sticking around for a while?” she asked, “I mean...in the area? There's a lot to do in Baltimore, believe it or not.”

“Actually...yeah. Work's gonna keep me in town for a while,” he said, eyes dancing.

“Well—that's good. I—guess?”

“Anything that keeps me near you is a good thing, Lia-Lia. Trust me on that one.”

Chuckling a little, Lia smiled into her coffee mug, taking another sip. Feeling a vibration against her hip, she pulled out her phone to check the time.

“Oh—shit, piss, damn, fuck, bollocks...” she muttered, practically ripping off her apron.

“Wha—what is it?”

“I'm going to be late! I have to catch to bus to the campus library; I'm meeting some classmates there...oh, shit, fuck, shit.”

“Whoa there, sailor-girl...” replied Gabriel, at least partly amused, “you gonna make it?”

“I have like, fifteen minutes,” she muttered, “sorry...I'm really sorry!”

Grabbing up her backpack, she gave him a quick wave, and dashed out the door with a shouted goodbye.

And Gabriel couldn't help but laugh as she dashed along, leaving an unclean table in her wake. A quick look about, a snap of his fingers, and it was done.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Lia,” he murmured to the empty air, and was gone like a passing car.

*****

“Sorry...sorry!” Lia was shouting as the bus pulled away from the curb.

“What's going on with you, Lia?” asked Veronica Randall. She was one of Lia's classmates; slightly younger, with fiery red hair and fiery green eyes that plastered her Celtic heritage all over her. Lia sometimes envied that, but only sometimes.

“Dude—what is with you?” went on Veronica, “this morning we had to kick you under the table to get your input on Paxil. Not to mention the professor having to call on you like, three times for a question. You're acting weird...and there is, conclusively, only one thing that makes girls like you act weird...boyfriends. You're in looove, eh?”

“I am not,” shot back Lia with a laugh as they approached the rest of the group, who were seated just at the library steps.

“Actually, she's right,” chimed in Velma Hinkley, a nerdy sort of girl with coke-bottle glasses, “I've seen you sketching in class, Li. It's not like you...”

“Did you meet someone?” asked Veronica, taking Lia's shoulders and giving her a gentle shake.

Lia's uncontrollable blush was her proverbial downfall.

“She did! She DID meet somebody! Lia and her boyfriend, sittin' in a tree--”

“Oh for the love of Pete, Veronica. He's NOT my boyfriend. Just some...guy who happens to like me.”

“Where'd you meet 'im?” quipped Randall, eyes dancing, apparently ready for a game of Twenty Questions.

“Dude, really? He just—came into the diner last night. And that's it...I mean, really.” Lia sighed, shaking her head.

“And did he come back again today?”

“Yes,” Lia confirmed as they made their way up the steps.

“That settles it! Our little Lia's growin' up!”

“Geez, I thought you all would be more mature than this,” muttered Lia, only partly annoyed with the rest of her group as they made their way into the library.

*****  
Hours later, the group of four emerged, books beneath their arms and a promise to do it again next week; same time, same station. Stretching, Lia shouldered her much heavier pack, intent on catching the bus back...

And nearly ran smack into Gabriel, who was holding two Styrofoam cups.

“Whoa,” he chuckled, “really, sweetie? Not while I've got hot liquids in my possession, huh?”

She blinked, looking up at him.

“Okay...now you're starting to creep me out. How did you know where to find me?”

“A: You told me you went to the campus of U of M here. B: You mentioned the campus library. C: I put two and two together, Lia-Lia...and D: Brought you some more java. Thought you could use it if you're burning the midnight oil tonight.”

“You're a saint. Thanks,” she said, accepting the cup from him without a second thought.

“I'm really not,” he replied as he fell into step beside her, “but the sentiment it appreciated.”

Lia swiped her bus pass and took a seat, stretching her neck and shoulders as best she could.

“Four hours in the stacks is not my idea of fun time...and they always give me the hard bits,” she fussed to nobody in particular and Gabriel was the only one within earshot.

“That's only because they're lazy, and nobody can do the hard bits like you can,” quipped the Archangel with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a mischievous smile, “You're a star, Lia.”

“Yeah,” she chuckled, “well, if I'm a star, I'm going Black Dwarf. I'm beat. Coffee helps though; thanks.”

“Like I said...figured you could use it.”

“Why are you so interested in me?”

The question was blunt, to the point, and entirely lacking in tact and delicacy. Sighing, Lia rubbed at her temple with her free hand.

“I'm sorry. I'm usually not this terse...I'm just tired and--”

“Hey...there's no need to explain. It's a legitimate question from a pretty young lady. And it demands an answer. The fact is, Liadan Pierce...there is something special about you. I like you. And I want to find out what makes you so special. I swear; I'm not out for a quick night and kiss goodbye...Besides, you trusted me enough to take that coffee. So you know I don't want to hurt you. The fact is...I like you.”

Lia sipped at her coffee, considering Gabriel's words. Under normal circumstances she would be running in the opposite direction as fast as she could. And she sure as Hell wouldn't be taking coffee from a strange man. But something about him made him not so strange. He made her laugh, made her comfortable, and seemed to know just what she needed and when.

“I like you too,” she replied after a moment, a little smile quirking her lips.

“Oh, do you now? Could'a fooled me last night.”

“I'm...I have to be wary,” she said, “really, you can get that, right?”

“'Course I can, Lia. And, uh—sorry, if I spooked you earlier.”

“Nah...s'okay,” replied the girl with a weary smile, “you didn't spook me so much as surprise me.”

“With coffee.”

“Yes. With coffee,” she acceded with a tired smile.

“How do you always manage to know where I am anyway?”

“Uh...well,” he faltered, “I could lie and say that I installed a homing device in your cell phone; but I know you wouldn't believe me even I told you that.”

“Seeing as you've never so much as touched my cell phone? Yeah, I'd agree there,” she shot back with a grin, holding out her hand for him as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Could I--”

“Uh, yeah. No. Get your own,” she teased, bumping him lightly and making him chuckle.

For a moment, they stopped, looking into each other's eyes, grey and hazel meeting one another in a mixture of amusement.

“Why do I feel so...safe around you?” she asked, “I don't really know you from Adam.”

“And I don't really know you from Eve, Lia-Lia, but...I'd really like to get to know you better, if you let me.”

Blushing a little as Gabriel pushed back a strand of her hair, Lia considered. All her life, she had been careful, learning early that it had always been better to be safe than sorry. Always better to close off than to open up and be left with nothing inside.

Trust the daughter to learn from the mistakes of her mother. The promise she had to to herself came back with a force that would not be ignored, no matter how she would or might try to, or allow herself to make an exception to the rule.

And yet this man...this slightly mad, fun-loving, carefree man had latched onto her like a proverbial mollusk and wasn't intent on letting go anytime soon. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about him; only that he was unlike any other man who'd ever tried to make a pass at her. Ever. And there had been a few; drunk and sober, old and young, dirty perverts and shy boys looking to get laid.

There was a distinct part of her which felt safe around him...ready to trust him. And in her heart, she felt that it was right.

“Okay,” she said, smiling up at him and reaching for his other hand.

“Really?” Gabriel sounded eager, happy, and relieved all at the same time. “You'll...you'll give me a chance?”

“Maybe,” she teased, though in her heart she already knew the answer.

“So—will you let me walk you home?”

“Just to my apartment complex. Okay? Compromise.”

“Deal,” he retorted smugly, wrapping her arm in his as they walked together into the night.

It wasn't the first time Lia wondered what the hell she was getting herself into with this guy.

*****

Morning came entirely too soon for Lia, who slammed down on her alarm clock with a viscous ferocity to rival a strong man. It would have taken too much effort to rip it from its plug and throw it across the room. Routine was routine, Cheerios were Cheerios, but Lia didn't feel so much like herself anymore. It was as if her life had shifted into a Before and an After. BG; Before Gabriel.

The idea made her laugh out loud; just once, in class. The giggles as the professor reprimanded her only made Lia mumble an apology and hide her blushing face in her book.

Afternoon found her strapping on her apron once again. A smattering of customers came in, but nothing spectacular.

Unless of course you counted the handsome guy sitting at the counter and watching her every move.

“I could totally file for harassment you know,” she teased as he turned the seat around to face her and turning over his coffee cup with an innocent smile.

“But you won't,” he retorted with a grin, “because, you know, it's not.”

“Shut up,” she teased, levering out a slice of the fresh-baked apple pie and offering it to him with coffee.

“You spoil me..wanna spoil me more? Go out with me tonight?”

She stopped in the middle of pouring coffee, just barely preventing a massive spill when she heard his proposal.

“What? Seriously, me?” she inquired, incredulously and unnecessarily.

“I, uh—don't see any other charming, smart and pretty girls here. D'you?”

Lia looked about. There were literally no other females in the diner.

“I—uh--I really don't know what to say?”

“You could always say yes,” prompted Gabriel with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“That I could,” she mused, as if pretending to consider

“What? Oh, Lia...you wound me,” he declared dramatically, clutching his chest as he pretended to half fall out of his chair.

It was very hard to her to keep a straight face in the midst of that.

“All right,” she said at last, laughing, “I'll go out with you.”

The way his eyes danced, whiskey-brown in the light of the diner, was mesmerizing as she grinned at him. The pie and coffee clearly forgotten (albeit momentarily), Gabriel's smile lit up his face.

“You're a hard nut to crack, Miss Lia. I hope you're not as hard to please on a date as you are to catch,” he replied with amusement, but there was genuine warmth there. Warmth and relief in his eyes and in his voice, and Lia's smile softened.

“You,” she said at last, “are incorrigible.”

“Part of my charm. Pick you up at your apartment complex tonight? Say, 8:00 PM?”

“All right. What're we going to do?”

“It's a surprise, Lia-Lia. Be sure to wear something nice; you're gonna need it.”

“But, I—I don't—have anything like that,” she said, “I just...I go to school. I work. I don't—go to nice places.”

“Oh, you'll find something; I'm sure of it.”

Their course laid, he returned to his pie and coffee with gusto. Lia couldn't help her own enthusiasm which quickly dissolved into its own special sort of terror.

What the hell was she going to wear on her date?

**Author's Note:**

> A special thank-you to my editors; SpookyKat78 and Xailey, for their insight, input and help with this labor of love.


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